


Lying Eyes and Alibis

by jagnikjen



Category: JAG
Genre: F/M, Gen, Navy, Reference to Rape, aircraft carriers, investigation of rape, no actual rape happens in the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-12
Updated: 2009-08-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagnikjen/pseuds/jagnikjen
Summary: Harm and Mac investigate allegations of rape against the USS Benjamin Harrison's onboard JAG.





	1. Lying Eyes and Alibis

0220 Zulu (0120 Local)  
USS Benjamin Harrison  
Lisbon, Portugal

A group of six, two women and four men, approach the gangplank of the carrier. A short blonde woman is hanging all over a tall muscular sailor. The sailor is helping the woman up the gangplank of the carrier. At the top, the woman and sailor head one way, while the rest of the group go another.

~*~*~

The woman and the man are kissing and whispering together in a quiet, deserted section of some corridor of the ship.

JAG

2053 Zulu (1553 EDT)  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

“Commander, Colonel, you’ll be leaving for the USS Benjamin Harrison at 0400 tomorrow morning,” Admiral AJ Chegwidden tells his two best lawyers. “The staff judge advocate has been accused of rape. Chief Petty Officer Wyatt went straight to the skipper and he in turn contacted me immediately since it was the JAG, a Major Johnson, who has been accused. I want a thorough investigation and a report on my desk ASAP.”

“Aye, Sir,” Harm and Mac answer in unison. They about face and leave the admiral’s office.

“Behave Rabb…” the admiral calls out after them.

They both stop in mid-stride. Mac glances at Harm before looking at the admiral.

“Sir?” Harm asks looking wide-eyed at his commanding officer.

“Don’t give the skipper a hard time and don’t antagonize the colonel,” the admiral tells Harm with a wave of his hand in Mac’s direction. “Understood?”

“Admiral, I…” Harm glances at Mac then back at the admiral. The admiral glares back. “Understood, Sir,” Harm replies with a nod. Mac precedes Harm out the door.

~*~*~

“So you want to drive to my place and head to Andrews from there?” Harm asks Mac as they walk back to their offices.

“Why don’t we just get a car? I don’t want to leave my car parked at your place indefinitely,” Mac says. “It can pick me up first and then we can come get you.”

“Okay…” Harm agrees. “I’ll see you at what…0300?”

“Yeah, somewhere around then. You want me to call you to make sure you’re up?” Mac asks with a grin.

“That won’t be necessary,” Harm replies, making a face at her.

“All right, see you in the morning,” Mac says.

JAG

0025 Zulu (1925 EDT)  
Mac’s apartment  
Georgetown

“Hi, luv,” Mic greets Mac as she walks in the door, giving her a light kiss on the cheek.

“Hey…what smells so good?” she asks, sniffing appreciatively.

“Spaghetti and meatballs. Hungry?” Mic asks.

“Mmm hmm…Mic, I’ve got to go to the Benjamin Harrison for a few days, at least,” she tells him as she heads to the bedroom to change and pack her bag. “The onboard JAG is accused of rape.”

“Sounds tough,” Mic says, following her.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to be up at 0230,” she replies. “So, after dinner I’ve got to hit the sack.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mic waggles his eyebrows at her.

“Sleep, Mic, sleep…” she says. “I’ve got to sleep.”

JAG

0025 Zulu (1925 EDT)  
Harm’s apartment  
North of Union Station

“Harm…” Renee whines. “I made reservations at Maison Blanche.”

“Renee…” Harm’s voice holds a warning. “I’m in the Navy remember? When they say jump, I ask how high. When the admiral says I go, then I go unless I have a damned good reason not to. Reservations at Mason Blanch are not sufficient.”

“Maison Blanche,” Renee stresses the correct pronunciation.

“Whatever,” he replies as he continues to pack his bag.

“Well, when will you be back? I can probably reschedule,” she says.

“I’m not really sure how long we’ll be gone. I’ll call you when I know something,” Harm tells her.

“We? Who’s we?” she asks suspiciously.

“Renee…” his voice warns again.

“It’s Mac, isn’t it?” she guesses.

“What difference does it make? She’s engaged and we’ll be in very close quarters with 5000 other sailors and Marines,” he avoids eye contact. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Huh…says you,” she remarks.

JAG

1446 Zulu (1346 Local)  
Bridge  
USS Benjamin Harrison

“JAG on deck!” announces the master at arms.

Harm and Mac make their way toward the captain coming to attention. “Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb reporting as ordered, Sir,” Mac announces crisply.

“At ease,” replies Captain Archambault, the skipper. “Has Admiral Chegwidden briefed you?”

“Yes, Sir,” replies Mac. “Is Major Johnson in the brig?”

“That’s affirmative. The PAO will show you to your quarters,” the skipper says. “I’m assuming, Rabb, that you know your way to the legal office.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Keep me abreast. That’ll be all,” the skipper dismisses them.

“Aye, Sir,” they reply, coming to attention.

“If you’ll follow me, Ma’am, Sir…” a young ensign addresses them. They nod and follow.

~*~*~

“Sir, you’ll be bunking in the legal office and Colonel, you’ve been placed with Lieutenant Commander Jarrett, one of our senior LSOs,” Ensign Yates informs them as she escorts them to female officer berthing.

“Sir, if you’ll just wait here while I show Colonel MacKenzie to her quarters,” Ensign Yates leaves Harm at the entrance to the women’s berthing as she shows Mac to her quarters. “Right this way, Ma’am.”

“Enter!” calls a gruff voice through the steel hatch.

Ensign Yates peeks her head through, ”Commander Jarrett…your temporary roommate is here.”

“Bring her in, Ensign,” the lieutenant commander says.

Ensign Yates and Mac step through and the ensign performs the introductions.

“Thank you, Ensign, that’ll be all,” Mac dismisses her. “Please tell Commander Rabb I’ll be out shortly.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the ensign replies and leaves.

“A JAG, huh?” remarks Commander Jarrett. “What brings you aboard? Don’t we already have a legal officer on board?”

“Well, Major Johnson needs help with a case,” Mac comments, not wanting to instigate any scuttlebutt. “Good to meet you, Commander. Is there a particular time that you sleep that I should be aware of so as to not disturb you?”

“I work swings mostly, Colonel, and sleep from 0100 to 0700,” she says. “I may be disturbing you, coming in at that hour.”

“Not a problem, Commander, I require very little sleep and keep practically those same hours back home,” Mac tells her. “If you’ll excuse me, my partner’s waiting.” Mac nods and heads back to Harm.

~*~*~

“All set?” he asks.

“Yep…you want to start with Major Johnson or Chief Petty Officer Wyatt?” Mac asks.

“Well, since the brig is right down the corridor from the legal office, why don’t we start with the major?” Harm suggests.

“Sounds good,” she replies.

~*~*~

Harm dumps his sea bag in the small adjoining room of the legal office and leads the way to the brig.

“Corporal, I’m Commander Rabb and this is Colonel MacKenzie,” the corporal nods to each of them. “We’d like to see Major Johnson.”

“Right this way, Commander,” the corporal leads them down a small corridor and points to a door. “She’s in there, Sir.”

Mac and Harm both look incredulously at the corporal.

“She?” Mac asks, the surprise evident in her voice.

“Yes, Ma’am, Major Johnson is female. Didn’t you know that?” Corporal Elliott asks.

Mac shakes her head and looks at Harm.

“And Chief Petty Officer Wyatt?” Mac queries.

“Male, Ma’am,” the corporal says.

Mac looks away, trying to keep a straight face.

“Thank you, Corporal. That’ll be all,” Harm dismisses him.

“Aye, Sir,” the corporal responds and heads back to his post.

Mac covers her mouth with her hands as if to hold in her laughter, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Mac…”

“I know, Harm, it’s not really funny, but you’ve got to admit that it is,” she grins.

Harm can’t help but grin back, “Get a hold of yourself, Colonel. We can’t go in there in this frame of mind.” Mac nods, trying to compose herself. “Are you ready, Mac?”

“Let’s go,” she says.

~*~*~

Harm and Mac square off against Major Johnson.

“Major, do you realize how bad things are?” Mac asked the accused. “At best you’re looking at a fraternization charge, at worst a rape charge. In either case, you will probably be dishonorably discharged and confined—not necessarily in that order.”

“Major, can you tell us what happened?” Harm asks calmly. How could a military lawyer get herself into this mess?

“Well, Sir, I don’t remember very much. We were in Lisbon for liberty,” she begins, looking from one JAG to the other. “A group of us left the ship and headed for town. The enlisted personnel broke off and went in one direction while the officers went in another.”

“Were you with anyone in particular?” Mac asks.

“No, Ma’am, just a group of us…about 13 of us, mostly women, but a few men, too,” Major Johnson says. “Our group split up once or twice. We must have since I only remember about five of us still together when we arrived back at the ship. I’m sure the enlisted group probably split up at some point and we must have crossed paths.”

“Major, did you know Chief Petty Officer Wyatt prior to that night?” Harm asks.

“No, Sir, and I don’t know the chief petty officer now,” the major says.

“Are you denying the charge, major?” Harm asks.

“Well, Sir, how can I admit to something I don’t remember?” she responds. Mac and Harm exchange a glance.

“Major Johnson, who was with you when you arrived back at the ship?” asks Mac.

“Commander Markus and Commander Daily from Communications, Captain Curtis from Dental, and Lieutenant Commander Helton, a pilot,” the major tells them. “Oh, wait…there was someone else with us, but I don’t know his name. I didn’t recognize him.”

“Could it have been Chief Petty Officer Wyatt?” Harm questions.

“I suppose it could have been, Sir. But since I don’t know the petty officer, I couldn’t say for sure unless I saw him,” Major Johnson says.

“How much did you have to drink that night, Major?” Mac asks.

“I had a couple beers at the first club, Ma’am. Then I did a couple of shots later with Lieutenant Helton,” Major Johnson answers. “After that, I’m not really sure. I usually stick with beer. I probably had several more before we made it back to the ship.”

“Thank you, Major,” Mac finishes the interview. “We’re going to talk with Chief Petty Officer Wyatt and some of your companions from that night and then I’m sure we’ll have a few more questions for you before filing our report.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Major Johnson replies. She stands and comes to attention as Harm and Mac stand to leave.

~*~*~

“Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie to the bridge…”

Harm and Mac alter their course and head for the bridge.

“Harm, I don’t know,” Mac says, stepping over a knee-knocker. “Major Johnson weighs maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. How could she have possibly forced some sailor to have sex with her?”

“Well, we haven’t seen the chief petty officer, yet,” Harm replies with a shrug. “For all we know, he could be five-one and a hundred and twenty pounds himself.”

They climb the last flight of steps and enter the bridge.

“Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie reporting as ordered,” Harm does the honors this time.

“At ease,” the skipper intones. “It seems we are about to be inundated by a delegation of Congress members and senators. They want to bunk among the crew, so everyone will be doubling up in quarters and hot bunking when necessary. Colonel, this really affects you more than the commander since he’s in the legal office.”

“Sir, I can move to the legal office with the commander and free up the bunk altogether,” Mac offers.

Captain Archambault raises his eyebrow at her, “That’s highly unusual, Colonel.”

“I know, Sir, but the commander and I have had to share quarters in the past. We’ve been partners for years now and nothing has ever happened,” Mac replies. “Besides, skipper, I’m engaged to be married…to someone else.” She holds up her left hand for proof.

“And what will your fiancé think of you sharing quarters with Commander Rabb?” the captain asks.

“Well, Sir…what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she says seriously.

“I see,” the skipper says. “Commander Rabb, do you have a problem with these arrangements?”

“No, Sir,” he offers the skipper a quick smile.

“Very well then, Colonel, go ahead and move your gear,” Captain Archambault agrees to her plan. “Dismissed.”

~*~*~

“Top or bottom bunk, Mac?”

“Top, please,” she requests. “Hey, you want to get some chow? I guess questioning the victim can wait till tomorrow since it’s already almost seven o’clock.”

“Yeah, sure, I’m starved,” Harm agrees.

JAG

2233 Zulu (2133 Local)  
Legal Office  
USS Benjamin Harrison

“Hey, I’m going to grab a shower before I hit the rack,” Mac says.

“Okay, I’m going to call Renee,” Harm replies.

When Mac goes into the tiny bathroom to take her shower, Harm picks up the phone and connects with Communications.

“This is Commander Rabb with JAG, I’d like to place a ship to shore call please.”

The communications officer requests the number and in a few moments Harm hears ringing on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” answers Renee.

“Renee…it’s Harm.”

“Hey, sailor,” she greets him happily. “How’s the investigation going?”

“It’s going okay so far. It’s an interesting case, to say the least,” he tells her. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” she remarks. “Gosh, what time is it there? It must be late.”

“It’s 9:30 here,” he says. “I wanted to call before I went to bed. I’m still not sure when I’ll be back. It will probably be a few more days.”

“Hey, Harm…” Mac calls, coming out of the bathroom.

“Is that Mac?” Renee asks angrily. “What is she doing in your room, Harm?”

“Renee, my room is also the legal office, this is where we work,” Harm answers evasively.

“Isn’t it a little late for working, Harm?” Renee asks. “You just told me it was 9:30 there and that you were going to bed.”

“A carrier is unlike the real world, Renee, it doesn’t conform to a civilian’s idea of a normal day,” he replies, side stepping her question again.

Mac stands quietly at the door, her hand over her mouth.

“Listen Renee, I’d better go now. I’ll call when I know for sure when I’ll be back, okay?” Harm hangs up the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Harm,” Mac says, coming into the room dressed in a light blue cotton robe, her hair damp from her shower. “I forgot you were on the phone.”

“Hey, no problem, I’ll just be in the dog house when we get back,” Harm quips.

“Well, a dog house on shore can’t be any tighter than quarters on a carrier,” she replies with a grin. “Look, Harm, if it’s really going to be a problem for you I can…”

“Mac, don’t worry about it. We’re adults and we can handle it. Renee will just have to get over it,” Harm reassures her with a real smile.

JAG

0725 Zulu (0825 Local)  
Hangar deck  
USS Benjamin Harrison

“We’re looking for Chief Petty Officer Wyatt,” Harm says to a lieutenant.

Mac stands nearby looking around, rubbing her upper arms at the cool breeze. The hangar deck doors are open to the sea as the aircraft are being rotated to and from the flight deck for training and maintenance.

“Chief Wyatt hasn’t started his shift yet, Sir,” the lieutenant says. “There’s a shift schedule over there. You can check what time he’s expected.”

Harm nods and he and Mac walk over to where the lieutenant pointed to check said schedule.

“He doesn’t start his shift for another two and a half hours,” Harm reads the schedule. “Let’s go see if we can track him down.

“Harm wouldn’t it be easier just to page him to meet us somewhere? It would save us a lot of time,” Mac suggests.

“Right, we’ll have him meet us at the ship’s store and then we can go to the office for some privacy,” Harm agrees.

~*~*~

Mac and Harm wait patiently at the entrance to the ship’s convenience store, watching each patron as he or she comes and goes, trying to figure out which one could be Chief Petty Officer Wyatt.

“You the ones who wanted to talk to me?”

“Chief Petty Officer Wyatt?” Harm asks the tall, muscular seaman in front of him. The petty officer nods and Mac turns on her heel and walks away. “Mac—where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, Harm, I’ll meet you back in the office,” she says, trying to keep a straight face. “There’s something I’ve got to do.”

“Is something wrong, Sir?” the chief asks.

“No, Chief, I’m Commander Rabb and that was Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie,” Harm points down the corridor at Mac’s retreating figure. “We’re here to investigate the allegations against Major Johnson. If you’ll follow me to the legal office, I’d like to ask you some questions.”

~*~*~

“So, Chief, you realize that these charges could end the major’s career…even if nothing comes of this investigation, some damage will have been done,” Harm tells Wyatt.

“Yes, Commander, I thought long and hard before going to the skipper, but Sir, I couldn’t let her get away with it,” the chief replies.

“How did you meet up with the major?” Harm asks.

Mac taps lightly on the hatch and sticks her head in,” Can I come in?”

Harm waves her in. “The chief was just going to tell me what happened,” he says. “Go ahead, Chief.”

“Well, Sir, Ma’am…me and a couple of my buddies left the ship at around 2100 and headed for town,” Wyatt begins. “We left the ship late since my buddy, Staff Sergeant Pemberton, had some paper work to finish after his shift. We didn’t want to go without him since we were going to celebrate his birthday. He turned 30 two weeks before our port stop, so we waited to celebrate.”

“What time did you get back to the ship?” Mac asks.

“About 0120, Ma’am,” the chief says.

“And were you with your friends when you reached the ship?”

“No, Ma’am. They left me at the Café Central. They all wanted to go to the Hot Club of Portugal, where there were some dancers and such,” Wyatt says. “I wasn’t really into that and I was developing a headache, so I begged off. There were other crewmembers from the Benjamin Harrison, so I stayed put. I didn’t know any of them, but I figured I’d just sit until they left and tag along when they did.”

“How did you know they were from this ship?” Harm asks.

“As far as I know, Sir, there were no other American ships in port that night; and you know, as well as I do, how easy it is to tell military personnel from civilians, especially if you’re military yourself,” Wyatt says.

“Chief, how tall are you?” Mac asks.

“Five-eleven, Ma’am.”

“And how much do you weigh?” Mac queries.

“About 260 pounds.”

“I’m assuming you lift weights or bench press or something,” Mac says.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he confirms. ”Ma’am, what has that got to do with anything?”

“I don’t know, yet, Chief,” Mac replies. “Just trying to make sure I have all the information.”

“Chief, you still haven’t told us how you met up with Major Johnson,” Harm points out.

“Well, I was sitting at a table in the Café Central-alone-when she approached me and asked if she could join me,” he says. “I didn’t know she was an officer, we were all in civvies.”

“Had you been drinking?” Mac asks.

“I had had a couple of drinks earlier, Ma’am, at the first club my buddies and I had gone to. But as I said, I was getting a headache so by that time I was having coffee,” the chief says. “The major was definitely drunk, though.”

“Why do you say that, Chief?” queries Mac.

“Well, first of all, she weaved her way over to my table; she reeked of beer; and she slurred some of her words,” he answers.

“Honestly, Chief, I’m having a little trouble putting this all together,” Mac admits. “You’re trying to tell me that a drunk five foot female Marine major, weighing no more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, forced you—a 5’11’, 260 pound, sober weight lifter, to have sex with her?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Do you understand why I’m having a little trouble with this?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Can you help me out a little here?”

“I don’t know that I can,” he says.

“Well, without anything to support your allegations, all charges against the major will have to be dropped and you’ll end of with a list of charges against you as long as my arm,” Mac gets in his face.

“Colonel, can I have a word with you?” Harm asks. Mac nods, glaring at the petty officer. “Chief, if you’ll excuse us? I’ll contact you later to continue our questioning.”

“Aye, Sir,” the chief stands at attention, only turning to leave at Harm’s nod.

“Mac, he’s supposed to be the victim, could you go a little easier on the guy?” Harm asks.

“Harm, this whole case smells fishy to me. You can’t tell me that you believe him,” she remarks. “First of all, the difference in their body sizes; second of all, she’s apparently drunk, he’s not; third of all, what idiot in his right mind would complain if a beautiful woman had sex with him, much less call it rape and press charges?”

“What are you suggesting?” Harm asks.

“I’m suggesting…I don’t know what I’m suggesting. Only that this all sounds ridiculous,” she comments. “I could believe it if Major Johnson was built like a Mac truck and the petty officer were short and skinny but…”

“Maybe she pulled rank on him, Mac,” Harm suggests. “We need to talk with the major’s companions and it probably wouldn’t hurt if we had Gunny do a little digging for us. Maybe he’ll turn up something.”

“Okay, Harm. You call Gunny; I’ll go see if I can track down the major’s friends,” Mac says, heading for the hatch. “Meet you in the officer’s mess for lunch?”

“Sure…1130?”

“All right, see you, later,” she says and leaves.

~*~*~

“JAG Headquarters, Gunnery Sergeant Galindez…”

“Hey, Gunny, it’s Commander Rabb,” Harm says. “I need you to do something for me.”

“What do you need, Sir?” Gunny asks immediately.

“I need anything you can dig up on a Major Brooke Johnson and a Chief Petty Officer Robert Earle Wyatt,” Harm requests. “How are things back in DC, Gunny?”

“Well, the admiral keeps grumbling about being short handed, Lieutenant Singer keeps brown nosing him for better cases, and Mr. Brumby keeps calling for the colonel,” Gunny reports. “Can you let her know that he’s called twice in the last three days?”

“Sure, Gunny, I’ll pass along the message. Anything you can find on the major and the chief will be great,” Harm says. “Call me as soon as you have something.”

“I’ll get right on it, Sir. I’ll talk to you soon,” Gunny signs off.

~*~*~

“Hey, squid…this seat taken?” Mac teases Harm.

He looks up to see his partner grinning at him. “Have a seat. How did your morning go?”

“Pretty well. I tracked down the major’s four friends, but I only got a chance to talk to one of them,” Mac says. “I talked with Lieutenant Commander Helton, he was just coming off a practice flight.”

“And?” Harm wonders.

“He confirmed the major’s assertion of a tag along on the way back to the ship and said he didn’t recognize the guy either--except from the bar where he corroborated the chief’s story of him being approached by the major,” Mac reports. “The commander said that the major hung all over some guy all the way back to the ship and once they got on board, the major and her new friend went one way while he and the other three officers went another.”

“Did the lieutenant say whether or not the chief was enjoying the major’s attentions on the way back or if he was just tolerating her?” Harm asks.

“He said he couldn’t tell…it was dark and the major kept up her drunken chatter so that no one could get a word in edge-wise,” Mac answers. “But he did say that the major was pretty unsteady on her feet and was certain that if the chief had not had his arm around her she would probably have fallen and passed out somewhere.”

“So we need to find out from Chief Wyatt what he did with the major once they were back onboard,” Harm says. “I called Gunny and he’s going to see what he can find out about the major and the chief. He also wanted me to tell you that Bugme has called three times in the last two days and would you please contact him and get him off Gunny’s back.”

“Gunny didn’t say that, Harm,” Mac glared at him. “If you can’t be nice to Mic then…”

“Then what? You’re not going to invite me to the wedding?” Harm asks sarcastically. “That would hurt my feelings.”

“What do you mean by that?” Mac asks confused. “Don’t you want to come to my wedding?”

“It’s not that simple, Mac.”

“Well, explain it to me,” she requests.

“I don’t really think now is the time or place for that discussion,” Harm tells her, looking around pointedly at the crowded dining room. “Finish your lunch, then let’s finish our investigation. If we don’t get back soon, Lieutenant Singer is going to end up in one of our offices.”

~*~*~

“Chief, were you with Major Johnson when you got back to the boat?” Harm asks.

“Yes, Sir. The major latched onto me and if I hadn’t of held onto her she would have been lying in the street somewhere,” he says.

“Did you help the major back aboard ship?” Mac asks.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replies.

“Did you help her to her quarters?” Mac then asks.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the chief answers again.

“And what happened once you arrived in her quarters?” Mac now asks.

“Well, Ma’am, once we got to her quarters, I tried to set her on her bed so I could take her shoes off, but she wouldn’t let go of my neck,” the chief replies. “Then she started kissing me.”

“Did you kiss her back?” Mac queries.

“At first I did, Ma’am, but then I realized that I didn’t know who she was and what her rank was, so I asked her,” Chief Petty Officer Wyatt explains. “She told me she was a major and so I tried to get away from her, but she had a really strong grip. Then she threatened me; said that she could do all kinds of legal things and get me in big trouble; I didn’t know what else to do, Ma’am. I tried not to feel anything, but I am only human.” Mac nodded and motioned for him to continue. “She ahhh…was touching me and kissing me and she started to unbutton my shirt.”

“Chief, she was drunk-you were sober; you’ve got 140 pounds on her and you’re still trying to tell me that you couldn’t get away?” Mac asks.

“I told you, Ma’am, she ordered me. What was I supposed to do? Start yelling and screaming?” he asks.

“For starters, yes,” Mac replies.

“Mac…” Harm says softly.

“What?” she answers impatiently, looking over at him.

He just looks at her, indicating for her to ease off.

She nods. “Painful as it might be,” she begins skeptically. “Please try to tell us what happened.”

“Well…as I said, she unbuttoned my shirt then she began rubbing against my co—my um…well, you know what I mean, don’t you, Ma’am?” he asks slightly embarrassed. Mac nods. “Then she began to undo my belt and zipper and she reached down the front of my pants and…and…handled me.” There was a long pause. “After that, it was kind of a blur, Ma’am, my body kind of took over. I knew it was wrong, but at that point I couldn’t stop.” The chief looked everywhere but at Mac. His cheeks were slightly flushed. “She pretty much passed out afterward, Ma’am, and I fixed my clothes and left.”

“And how long until you reported the incident?” she asks.

“Three days, Ma’am,” he says.

“Harm?” she queries and he shakes his head. “Okay, Chief we’re done for now. Dismissed.”

“Aye, aye, Ma’am,” the chief says as he stands at attention. He quickly about faces and leaves the office.

“What about the chief’s companions that night?” Harm asks.

“I’m going to bet they don’t know anything. If they left him at the café, then they’d have nothing to offer as to what happened at the café or when the chief arrived back on board,” Mac says.

“You’re probably right, but let’s talk with them anyway and get a feel for the chief’s attitude toward officers and women in general, and women officers in particular,” Harm suggests.

“Probably a good idea, but you’ve got admit, Harm, it’s getting harder to buy,” she says.

“I agree, but let’s not cheat him of a thorough investigation,” Harm says. “Besides, I’m kind of enjoying myself out here; wouldn’t want to cheat ourselves out of a vacation…of sorts.”

“You consider this a vacation?” she asks.

“Sure, don’t you?” he quips. “I’m back aboard a carrier, sharing quarters with a beautiful woman…why wouldn’t I be enjoying myself?”

“Harm, about what you said earlier…” she begins, wringing her hands. “…that not being invited wouldn’t hurt your feelings…”

“Mac…I-I just meant that…I w-want to be there for you,” Harm stammers. “I mean we’re good friends, after all, right?” Mac nods. “I just don’t think I want to watch you marry bumblebee.”

“Harm, would you please stop calling Mic names? I’m marrying the guy, okay?” Mac says, anger tinting her tone.

The flush is her cheeks and the glint in her eyes was more than Harm could handle. He had always felt most attracted to her when her dander was up, especially at him. Harm steps forward and kisses her on the mouth, testing the softness at the seam of her lips with his tongue. Her mouth opens at his gentle request and tongues twirl and tangle for a moment before Mac breaks away from him. The glint of anger has now been replaced by passion and confusion.

“Harm…”

“Mac, I’m sorry…”

“I…I’m not,” she replies before turning and making a hasty exit from their shared quarters.

Harm glances at his watch, it was only 1330…shit—he just wasted the rest of the day as far as the investigation is concerned. Not that he really cared about that. He was glad he was out here…and that Mac was here, too. Anything that prolonged their stay was okay with him. He was just sorry that he had upset Mac.

~*~*~

Mac wanders through corridors and up and down ladders. She had a general idea of where she was, but it had been awhile since she had been on board a carrier. She finally asks a young lieutenant how to get to Vulture’s Row from where they were and in another 10 minutes, Mac was watching flight ops. The loud hiss of the catapults and the roaring of the jet engines kept Mac’s mind filled with her partner and best friend. Placing her fingertips against her mouth, she closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his mouth on hers.

“Are you all right, Ma’am?” asks a lieutenant commander wearing a flight suit.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as her eyes flew open.

“I beg your pardon, Ma’am,” the commander apologizes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It was just that you looked kind of upset.”

Mac offers the commander a wobbly smile, “Thank you…Commander Jarrett, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she replies. “You’re Colonel MacKenzie, my almost roommate, right?”

Mac nods. “The skipper told us about the incoming delegation and I offered to room with my partner, freeing up a spot in the actual crew quarters,” Mac tells her.

“Isn’t your partner male?” Lieutenant Commander Jarrett asks, raising her eyebrows at Mac.

“Well, yes, but I’m engaged—not to Harm, though—that’s my partner,” Mac tries to explain. “Harm and I are…are…well, I’m not sure anymore what we are anymore.”

“And how about your fiancé? How does he feel about you rooming with your partner?” the lieutenant commander asks.

“Actually, he doesn’t know about that. He doesn’t even know Harm and I are together on this assignment,” Mac reveals. “If he did know, he wouldn’t be happy about it at all.”

“It’ll be worse after the fact, than if you had told him up front,” Commander Jarrett points out.

“I know…it’s just that he’s touchy about Harm and I and I didn’t want to leave on a sour note,” Mac argues.

Commander Jarrett shakes her head, “Was there something between you and your partner before you met your fiancé?”

“I thought there was, but nothing ever actually happened,” Mac sighs. “But there are still some under currents and a few unresolved issues”

“A suggestion, Colonel?” Commander Jarrett asks and Mac nods. “Talk to your partner and talk to your fiancé. Get it figured out once and for all before you walk down the aisle or it’ll come back and bite you in the ass.”

“Commander Jarrett, how would I make a personal phone call back to DC?” Mac asks.

“The phone room is on the O-2 level, Ma’am,” Commander Jarrett explains. “Just go back down through the island and then go down two more decks. Once you get there, turn left for about five minutes, then…Ma’am; you may want to ask once you get down that far. I’m sure someone will point you in the right direction.”

~*~*~

“Two more hatches down, Ma’am,” the next sailor tells Mac and she steps into a room with several library type cubicles, all set up with telephones. She sits down at one and pulls her calling card out of her wallet.

Mac listens as the phone on the other end of the line rings once, then twice, then…

“Hello?” answers an accented voice.

“Mic, it’s me…” she says.

“Hello luv, how are things going out there?” Mic asks.

“Okay, I guess,” she replies.

“Sarah, are you okay?” he asks, sensing her hesitance.

“Yeah, I’m fine…” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I dunno. You sound a little off your feed,” he says.

“I’m not a cow, Mic,” Mac replies, latching on to the anger.

“It’s just an expression, Sarah,” he tells her. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, hey?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, it’s just that…” Mac can’t explain.

“It’s just what, luv?” Mic encourages.

“It’s nothing…I guess I just…I just miss you…,” Mac says, crossing her fingers in a childish gesture.

JAG

2017 Zulu (1917 Local)  
Harm and Mac’s quarters  
USS Benjamin Harrison

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Harm asks Mac as she steps through the hatch. “You’ve been gone awhile. I was beginning to get worried. Did you get dinner?”

“I ah…just wandered around, Harm,” she answers. “I called Mic and yes, I ate.”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies taking a seat at the table with Harm. “Did you hear back from Gunny, yet?”

“No, not yet, probably tomorrow,” Harm says. “You know, Mac, I’ve been thinking—“

“Harm, I really don’t want to talk about it,” she says abruptly.

“About Major Johnson and Chief Wyatt,” Harm continues his sentence.

“Oh…sorry…” she offers.

“I don’t think she raped him…they might have had sex, but it wasn’t rape and it wasn’t in there,” Harm waves his hand toward the sleeping compartment.

“Why do you say that?” she sits straight up in her chair, looking at him.

“Because, he came in here twice for questioning, right?” he asks and she nods. “Well, he never once expressed a qualm about being in here, either verbally or with his body language.”

“Right,” she snaps her fingers. “Most victims of rape would not want to be anywhere near where the incident occurred and would either say so or act really uncomfortable.”

“And the chief did neither,” Harm adds. “Not to mention the fact that the major didn’t seem overly upset about the rape charges.”

“No she didn’t, did she? Or about the possibility of being discharged, dishonorably or otherwise,” Mac says. “And come to think of it, the petty officer didn’t either when I told him that if his allegations against the major were false that he could be brought up on charges.”

“Do you think they are in cahoots?” Harm wonders. “I found it extremely odd that a staff judge advocate would get herself into this kind of trouble, knowing the law as well as she ought.”

“Harm…”

“What?” he asks.

“I got myself into a couple of pretty stupid situations,” she reminds him. “Being a staff judge advocate and all.”

“Not this stupid, Mac…at least with Colonel Farrow, you were both officers, not to mention, you actually weren’t a lawyer then,” Harm gives her an out.

“Maybe not, but I was on my way to law school and as an officer, I knew the UCMJ,” she replies, not cutting herself any slack. “As for not divorcing Chris…it was just plain stupid to not finally take care of it.”

“Well, don’t keep kicking yourself for it. It’s over, now…and I’m assuming you have no more husbands you need to divorce,” Harm gives her a wicked grin.

Mac shakes her head.

“How about a movie? My treat,” Harm asks. “They’ve got a couple playing up in the officer’s mess or the chow hall. I’m not sure what, though.”

This time Mac nods. “Sure, I’d like that,” she says.

JAG

1142 Zulu (1042 Local)  
The next day

“Commander Rabb, please report to the communications room, Commander Rabb to communications…”

Harm looks up at the sound of his name over the PA system. “Must be Gunny,” he says to Mac. “I’ll be back.” Harm takes off to the comm room, while Mac continues to outline the report for the admiral.

~*~*~

“Commander Rabb,” he picks up the line.

“Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, Sir,” Gunny says. “I got the information you asked for. It’s pretty interesting.”

“Go ahead, Gunny,” Harm requests.

~*~*~

“Well, Sir, based on the social security number you gave me, Robert Earle Wyatt is dead,” Gunny tells Harm. “But he has a twin brother, David Richard Wyatt.”

“Why did he use his dead brother’s social rather that his own?” Harm asks.

“It seems that David Wyatt is wanted in conjunction with a murder and attempted robbery back in Lawton, Oklahoma,” Gunny tells him. “He must have used his brother’s identity to enlist in order to evade arrest and prosecution.”

“How did the brother die?” Harm wonders.

“Robert Wyatt died as a toddler from measles complicated by pneumonia,” Gunny tells him.

“And the major?” Harm asks.

“Pretty much on the up and up except for her connection to the petty officer,” Gunny says. “They both graduated from Lawton High School in 1981, were high school sweethearts and voted prom king and queen.”

“How do you get this information, Gunny?” asks Harm.

“I have my sources, Commander,” Gunny replies. “Anyway, Brooke Johnson attended Baylor Law School in Texas and graduated in ’85. She enlisted in the fall of that year. Wyatt had been employed at a local television station since graduation. He was fired in February of ’85 for petty theft, but never charged. He committed his other crime in March of ’85 and enlisted in June after being on the run for a month and a half.”

“Great, Gunny, thanks,” Harm says. “We should be back by the end of the week.”

~*~*~

“Mac, we got ‘em,” Harm says, coming back to the office.

“I knew that something was fishy about the whole thing,” she replies. “What did Gunny tell you?”

“Well, for the most part, Major Johnson is clean, except for her association with the petty officer,” Harm says.

“Harm, she conspired to harbor a fugitive and broke articles 78, 81, and 107, to name a few,” Mac remarks. “I’m sure I can come up with a few more.”

“Well, I just meant that she is really a lawyer, graduated from Baylor, and joined the Corps legally,” Harm says. “Wyatt on the other hand, used his dead brother’s social security number to enlist after a murder and an attempted robbery back in their hometown.”

“You’re kidding?” Mac shakes her head. “How does Gunny find this stuff out?”

“I asked him that and he plead the 5th,” Harm tells her. “But no matter, let’s notify Captain Archambault of these new developments and then finish our report for the admiral.”

~*~*~

“Captain Archambault, can we have a word with you in private?” Harm asks, up on the bridge.

“Is this about your investigation, Commander?” the skipper asks in return.

“Yes, Sir.”

The skipper nods. “XO, you have the bridge,” he starts for his private office. “Commander, Colonel, follow me.” They enter the cramped space and close the hatch. “Now, what’s this all about?”

“In a nutshell, Sir, the petty officer and the major conspired together for reasons we have not ascertained yet,” Mac begins. “The petty officer committed a crime and enlisted fraudulently to escape prosecution; the major enlisted about three months after he did. He and the major were involved as teenagers and I would assume have been involved over the years.”

“Okay, I’ll have the MPs detain Chief Petty Officer Wyatt until you can question him,” the skipper says. “What are your suggestions?”

“Well, Sir, we can’t make any official recommendations until we’ve spoken with them both again to find out what they were up to,” Harm replies.

“Very well…dismissed,” the skipper picks up the horn to call security to pick up Chief Wyatt as Harm and Mac leave the bridge.

“Major Johnson?” Harm asks and Mac nods. They head back to the brig.

~*~*~

“All right, Major, we know about your relationship with the chief,” Mac begins. “Why were you ready to toss your careers down the toilet with these trumped up charges of rape?”

“Well, Ma’am, we wanted out of the military,” she says.

“Good grief, Major, there are easier ways of getting out of the service than making up charges of rape,” Mac continues. “All you had to do was confess to fraternization with the chief petty officer and turn him in for the murder and attempted robbery charges.”

“What murder and attempted robbery charges?” the major asks, looking back and forth between Harm and Mac. They glance at each other.

“Don’t you know?” Mac asks a little less harshly.

“No, Ma’am…what murder? What robbery?” she asks again, distress etched all over her face.

“Well, back about a month and half before the chief enlisted, he attempted to rob a convenience store back in Lawton. The robbery was a failure, but he ended up shooting one of the clerks,” Harm explains. “He was on the run until he decided to use his dead brother’s social security number to join the Navy.”

“Oh, my god,” Major Johnson whispers, dropping her head on her arms.

“Didn’t you ever find it odd that he called himself Robert instead of David?” Mac asks.

The major shakes her head, “No…I’ve always called him Bobby, ever since we met in middle school.”

“When did you decide to join the Marines?” Harm questions.

“I’ve wanted to join the Marines since I was about ten,” Major Johnson reveals. “My favorite uncle was a career Marine; use to tell me stories of his tours aboard various destroyers and battleships. In high school, I decided to become a lawyer like my mother, but do it Marine style and become a JAG.”

“And what did you think when Bobby decided to enlist as well?” asks Harm.

“I was surprised, but not upset. I thought it would be neat to be together,” she tells them. “It wasn’t until I had gotten halfway through OCS and the UCMJ that I realized we would not be able to have any kind of relationship. It wasn’t really a problem for a while. We were stationed so far apart that our relationship was strained and we existed on phone calls and occasional postcards. But somehow we ended up on the USS Bladensburg together.” The major sighs. “It was all down hill from there.”

“What do you mean?” Mac asks.

“Well, he somehow convinced me to meet him one time during a liberty stop,” the major says. “We met at a really nice restaurant. He wined me and dined me with all the charm I remembered from high school. He brought me pink roses and persuaded me to go to a hotel with him. Needless to say, we ended up making love and from then on, I couldn’t help it.”

“Your duty should have come first, Major,” Mac comments.

“Yes, Ma’am, I know. But I had loved Bobby since the eighth grade and believe it or not, that time in Lisbon was the first time we ever made love. It was so beautiful, I never could resist again,” Major Johnson replies. “He was always able to talk me into believing that we’d never be caught, that we belonged together…this last time in Lisbon brought back so many sweet memories and then he talked me into this crazy scheme to get us out of the military. I guess he figured two years in a Navy brig was better than who knows how long in a civilian jail for murder. We figured with any luck, we’d end up in the same place and be able to continue our relationship for however long we ended up being confined.”

“Okay, Major, I’m not sure just what charges will be brought against you at this point, but you will remain in custody,” Harm tells her. “We need to talk with the chief and with the Oklahoma authorities. Chances are that the chief will be in jail, whether military or civilian, for a very long time.”

Major Johnson nods. “I believed that if I had Bobby then nothing else would matter…not losing my Marine career or my law career,” she shakes her head as tears stream down her face. “God, I’m a fool.” She steps back inside her cell.

~*~*~

“Private, guard the major; don’t let anyone in to speak to her without clearing it with Colonel MacKenzie or myself,” Harm instructs the MP. “If a Chief Petty Officer Wyatt shows up, apprehend him and contact us immediately. Keep them as far apart as possible.”

“Aye, Aye, Sir,” responds the private, taking position at the entrance to the corridor leading to the cells.

~*~*~

“Sir, Ma’am…we can’t seem to locate Chief Petty Officer Wyatt,” a lance corporal and a staff sergeant report to Harm and Mac as they leave the brig area.

“What do you mean?” asks Mac.

“He’s not in his quarters, Ma’am, and he’s not at his duty station even though he’s supposed to be on shift right now,” replies the lance corporal.

“Dammit!” exclaims Harm.

“Where could he have disappeared to?” Mac wonders.

“Unfortunately for us, as big as a carrier is, it will be virtually impossible to find him,” Harm comments. “Even if we go deck by deck, section by section, there would end up being too many people needing access to too many areas.”

“Have you notified the skipper, Staff Sergeant?” Mac asks.

“No, Ma’am,” he replies.

“Well, Harm, it’s really up to the captain how he wants to handle finding the missing petty officer,” Mac says. “Let’s go talk with him. Staff Sergeant, keep up a low-key search. Check the mess halls and sickbay, the ship’s store and other busy public places. Tell the officer in charge of each place to keep a look out for Chief Wyatt.”

“Aye, aye, Ma’am,” the staff sergeant responds and he and the lance corporal take off.

~*~*~

“Excuse us, Skipper,” Harm says as he and Mac enter the bridge. “We have a slight problem.”

“What’s that, Commander?”

“Well, Sir, the chief petty officer as gone AWOL,” Harm replies. “The security detail you sent after him reported to us, down in the brig, that he was not at his duty station or in his quarters. We sent them to the public areas of the ship including sickbay and the ship’s store to look for him.”

“Well, chances are, if he realizes that you’re after him and why, he’s hiding someplace less public,” the captain reasons. “We can initiate a bow to stern search and secure every non essential compartment. After that we can set up security checkpoints for areas such as the hangar deck and the flight deck and instigate compulsory 100% ID checks in the dining facilities and all the ship’s recreational areas. Let’s try that and see if we can’t flush him out.”

“What if he attempts to jump overboard, Sir?” Mac asks.

“We can post sentries, Colonel, but they can only do so much,” the skipper replies. “If he wants to jump let him jump. It’ll save you a whole lot of trouble and save the government a whole lot of money to keep him fed, housed, and clothed for the rest of his life.”

Mac nods. “Is there anything we can do, Sir?” Mac asks.

“Not at the moment, but I’ll let you know,” replies the skipper.

“Aye, aye, Sir,” she says.

~*~*~

“I guess we can finish our report for the admiral and work on our recommendation of charges against them both,” Mac says as she and Harm head back to their quarters/legal office.

“Do you suppose we’ll be staying or going?” Harm asks, leading the way down a ladder.

“What do you mean?” asks Mac.

“I mean, do you think the admiral will order us back to DC right away, or will we get to remain on board until they catch the petty officer?” Harm clarifies.

“Who knows how long it will take to flush Wyatt out of hiding,” Mac replies. “But my guess is that we’ll be here another of couple days before the admiral makes us come home.”

“Oh good,” Harm says, opening the hatch to their quarters.

Mac steps in ahead of him, “Why do you say that?”

Harm closes and secures the hatch behind him. “Because, I’ve really enjoyed being out here with you,” he says as Mac’s eyes widen a bit at his admission. “It’s been like old times…don’t you think so?”

“Yeah, I do,” Mac agrees. “It’s been nice.”

“You can’t tell me that once you’re married, we’ll still have moments like this,” Harm comments, raking his hand through his hair.

“Of course, we will, Harm,” Mac remarks. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I know how I would feel if I were your husband and you were sent off with your partner, whom you have feelings for and who has feelings for you,” Harm answers, turning away from her.

“What are you saying, Harm?” Mac asks softly stepping closer to him.

“Mac, I—”

(BANG-BANG-BANG) Someone bangs loudly on the hatch. Harm groans. Mac wipes her eyes.

“Commander! Colonel! Are you in there?” hollers Lance Corporal Craven. “It’s Corporal Craven—we found the petty officer!”

Mac whirls around and unlocks and yanks open the hatch. “Where did you find him, Corporal?” she asks.

“Um…I’m sorry, Ma’am, did I come at a bad time?” the corporal asks.

“No, it’s fine…the petty officer?” she replies.

“Well, Ma’am, one of the other security details found him in a compartment in one of the lower decks,” Corporal Craven reports. “He’s in sickbay right now, Ma’am.”

“Why?” asks Harm.

“He’s dead, Sir,” says the corporal. “He was found with a gunshot wound to the head. He committed suicide.”

“Suicide was too good for him,” Mac says.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

“Nothing, Corporal, we’ll be there directly,” Mac says dismissing him. She looks back at Harm, “We’re not done.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he says, indicating for her to lead the way to sickbay.

~*~*~

“Yes, Sir,” Harm responds. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. We’ll finish our report this afternoon and FAX it to you ASAP.” Harm listens as the admiral continues. “Yes, we’ll have the major with us…No, Sir, I’m sure she’ll accept a deal…Aye, aye, Sir.” Harm hangs up the receiver.

“I guess you heard we need to be on the morning COD,” Harm says to Mac. She nods. “I guess we should go finish our report and speak to Major Johnson.”

“You think she’ll deal, huh?” Mac asks, following Harm back to their quarters.

“Sure…she never really intended for things to get so far out of hand,” Harm says. “A woman in love will do crazy things…Ow!…What was that for?” Harm rubs his arm where Mac just slapped him.

“For that ‘woman in love’ comment,” she tells him.

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me I’m that far off base here,” he returns. “I mean you can’t really argue this one, Mac…Ow!…Would you stop that?” He rubs his arm again.

“Then I suggest you quit while you’re ahead,” Mac comments. “Now, continue with your deal theory…and without the editorial remarks.”

“As I was saying, she just wanted out of the Marines in order to legally be with the man she loved,” Harm says. “I’m fairly confident she really didn’t know anything about the murder and the attempted robbery, so there won’t be any charges against her for harboring a criminal or as an accessory to the crime. And she’ll probably be pretty broken up over his death, so I imagine she won’t be real interested in having to stand trial.”

“You’re probably right,” Mac agrees. “Let’s get that report done and sent to the admiral.”

JAG

0519 Zulu (0619 Local)  
The next morning  
The Legal Office

“You all packed?” Harm asks. “I thought you’d have another bag.”

“Very funny, I’m a Marine, remember?” Mac replies.

“That’s your answer for everything, isn’t it?” Harm asks with a grin.

“Not everything, but almost,” she returns his smile.

The buzzing of the office phone catches Harm’s attention and he walks into the office to grab it.

“Commander Rabb, Legal Office,” he answers.

“Commander, this is the CAG. Your flight out of here is canceled due to bad weather in Naples,” Colonel Burton tells him. “The COD couldn’t take off this morning and it’s doubtful the afternoon COD will make it in either. We’re expecting a storm cell from the southern Atlantic to hit us around 1300. So you may as well settle in for at least another day and a half.”

“Has Admiral Chegwidden been notified of the delay?” Harm asks.

“No, you’ll have to take care of that yourself, Commander,” says the colonel.”

“Aye, aye, Colonel,” Harm signs off and walks back into the sleeping quarters. “Well, Mac, looks were stuck on this tub for another day or so…incoming bad weather.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that,” she remarks.

“Nope,” he says. “It’s still early, we could crawl back in the rack and catch some more shut eye. Not to mention, we haven’t got anything to do but enjoy the remainder of our cruise. Let’s play tourist later.”

“Sounds like fun. Are you going to play cruise director?” Mac asks. She stumbles forward into Harm’s chest as the carrier makes a sharp turn to starboard. “What was that?”

Harm’s arms instinctively go around her. “I’m not sure. The CAG said something about an approaching storm cell. Maybe we’ve turned to avoid it.”


	2. The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgetown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac's investigation of a murdered pregnant officer brings back sad memories; Mic finally realizes he can't win when Harm comes to Mac's rescue once again.

JAG

Last time on JAG…

“Yes, Sir,” Harm responds. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. We’ll finish our report this afternoon and FAX it to you ASAP.” Harm listens as the admiral continues. “Yes, we’ll have the major with us…No, Sir, I’m sure she’ll accept a deal…Aye, aye, Sir.” Harm hangs up the receiver.

“I guess you heard we need to be on the morning COD,” Harm says to Mac. She nods.

~

Harm is on the phone: ”Commander, this is the CAG. Your flight out of here is canceled due to bad weather in Naples,” Colonel Burton tells him. “The COD couldn’t take off this morning and it’s doubtful the afternoon COD will make it in either. We’re also expecting a storm cell from the southern Atlantic to hit us around 1300. So you may as well settle in for at least another day and a half.”

~

Mac stumbles forward into Harm’s chest as the carrier makes a sharp turn to starboard…“What was that?”

Harm’s arms instinctively go around her. “I’m not sure. The CAG said something about an approaching storm cell. Maybe we’ve turned to avoid it.”

JAG

0519 Zulu (0619 Local)  
USS Thomas Jefferson  
The Legal Office

“I hate storms, Harm,” Mac replies breathlessly, holding tightly to the front of Harm’s khaki shirt. “Something bad always seems to happen.”

~~~~“All hands—this is the captain—all non-essential personnel remain in your quarters…two storm cells are about to converge on us…we’re in for a rocky ride…I’ll keep you updated.”~~~~

Harm glances up at the PA speaker from which the captain’s voice just came and back down at Mac, “Well, so much for our tour.”

“Harm, I’m scared,” Mac whispers as thunder can be heard.

Harm tightens his arms around her. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m here…I’ll keep you safe,” he says. “You believe that, right?”

She nods as the ship begins to pitch and roll. Her eyes widen in fear.

Harm widens his stance to keep himself and Mac steady and upright. “Perhaps we ought to climb into my bunk. It’s probably safer to be off our feet.” They make their way over to the double bunk. Harm climbs in first, maneuvering into the corner and patting the space right in front of him. Mac settles into the vee of his legs and he wraps his arms around her waist. “Better?” he asks.

“Mm hmm,” she intones. “Mic would be livid if he knew about this.”

“Well, I guess this is something we keep to ourselves,” Harm says. “As is that kiss. Mac, I’m really sorry about that.”

“Harm, don’t even go there,” Mac replies. “I already told that I wasn’t sorry about it and that’s something I’ve got to learn to live with.”

“Why, Mac?”

“Why what, Harm?”

“Why aren’t you sorry?”

“Because that’s the first time you really kissed me—me, Harm—not some ghost,” she says. “I could feel—HEY! Why did the lights go out, Harm?”

“I’m not sure, Mac, the emergency lights should come on soon,” he gives her a reassuring squeeze just as the weak beam flickers on. “See, that’s better, huh?”

Mac nods, “Harm, how long will we be locked down here, waiting out this storm?”

“It’s hard to say, Marine,” Harm tells her. “It could be awhile.”

“How long is awhile…give me a ball park figure,” she requests.

“Upwards of twenty-four to thirty-six hours,” he guesses.

“Great,” she says sarcastically.

“Well, do you have somewhere else you’d rather be?” Harm asks.

“Actually, Harm, no,” Mac sighs. “There’s no where else I’d rather be, despite the fact that I’m out in the middle of the Atlantic on a ship caught between two storm cells.”

“Not even at home, in your warm bed with…” Harm can’t bring himself to say Mic’s name.

JAG

1245 Zulu (0745 EDT)  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia

“Admiral…the commander and the colonel are here to see you, Sir,” Tiner announces through the intercom.

“Send them in, Tiner,” the admiral responds. Harm and Mac enter his office and stand at attention in front of his desk. “At ease, have a seat. I’m glad to see you two made it back in one piece.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Harm says for them both. Mac nods in agreement and smiles at the admiral.

“Nice work on that investigation, by the way. Commander, I want you to handle the case from here,” Admiral Chegwidden says. “You have the files, right?” He glances at Harm over the top of his glasses. Harm nods. “Good, good…Colonel, so how did you enjoy that ride?”

“Well, Sir, I was just thankful that Commander Rabb was there to talk me through it,” she says soberly. The admiral looks at her. “I hate storms, Sir, and the commander did an excellent job of keeping my mind off the rolling seas and the booming thunder.” The admiral just continues to look at her. “Sir?…Admiral, is something wrong?”

“What? Huh? No…” the admiral shakes his head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry, Colonel, I was just remembering the good old days at sea.” Harm and Mac exchange an amused glance. “So—where was I? Besides in Never-Never Land?” he asks, sorting through the file folders on his desk. “Oh, right…Colonel, you’ll be investigating the death of Lance Corporal MacReynolds. Colonel…”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Heads up…she was four months pregnant,” the admiral says kindly. Mac nods. “Dismissed.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Mac replies as she and Harm stand at attention before turning and leaving the admiral’s office.

~

Mac sits at her desk, contemplating the dead lance corporal and her baby. She is startled out of her reverie by the ringing of her telephone. She stares at it a moment before picking it up, “Colonel MacKenzie.” She gets no response. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She still gets no answer, so she shrugs and places the receiver back in its cradle.

“Hey, Mac?” Harm sticks his head into her office. “You want to head down to Quantico with me? I’ve got to go talk to Major Johnson in the brig and I figured since you had to head down there for your investigation, we could go together.”

“Sure, that’ll be fine,” she offers him a small smile. “When?”

“In about 45 minutes,” he says, checking his watch.

~

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other stretched across the seat backs, Harm rubs Mac lightly on her shoulder with his fingers. “Hey, you okay?” he asks her.

She shrugs and continues to look out her window at the drizzle, “I was just wondering why someone would want to kill a pregnant woman.”

“How do you know she was murdered?” he asks. “The admiral didn’t say anything about murder.”

“No, he didn’t,” Mac replies. “I just have this gut feeling.”

“Getting a little worked up about this aren’t you?” Harm asks. “What’s going on with you? You don’t even know for sure she was murdered. She could have committed suicide.”

“Why would she commit suicide, Harm, at four and half months along?” Mac snaps. “If she had wanted to commit suicide, she would have done it a lot sooner.”

“Hey…hey…I’m sorry, okay?” Harm shrugs and puts his right hand on the steering wheel.

“No…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bit your head off,” she replies, patting his arm. “It’s just that after what happened to Bud and Harriet last year and what happened to—“ She looks at Harm with big eyes and slaps her hand over her mouth realizing what she was about to say.

Harm looks over at her. “Is there something you want to talk about?” he asks. “You know I’m here for you, but if this case is going to be too hard on you, then perhaps you should call the admiral and ask if you can pass it onto someone else.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a marine, right? I’ll just suck it up and do my job,” she says with a decisive nod. The sound of the 1812 Overture fills the car. “I wonder who that could be,” Mac comments as she reaches down into her briefcase to grab her cell phone. “Hello…who’s there?” She gets no answer and presses the ‘end’ button. “That’s bizarre.”

“What’s bizarre?” Harm asks.

“That’s the second call I’ve gotten today where no one answered when I came on the line,” she tells Harm.

JAG

1630 Zulu (1130 EDT)  
Marine Brig  
Quantico Marine Corps Base

“Have a seat, Major,” Harm offers.

“Thank you, Sir,” Major Johnson accepts, taking a seat.

Harm sits across from her at the round table in the small office. “How are you holding up?” he asks, referring to the death of her lover and partner in crime.

“I’m okay, Sir. Thanks for asking,” she replies. “What’s next?”

“Well, you need to decide if you want to accept the government’s offer or stand trial,” Harm tells her.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll take a deal, Sir,” the major says. “I know I was in the wrong and I don’t really have a credible defense. I’m sure a panel won’t accept a woman-in-love plea.” Harm chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“I said something along those lines to Colonel MacKenzie and she hit me,” Harm explains, rubbing his arm as if it still hurt. “The government is offering a dishonorable discharge and 18 months confinement.”

“Eighteen months?” she asks, surprised. “Why so long?”

“Well, maximum confinement for fraternization is two years, so you’re actually lucky as far as that goes,” Harm explains. “Instead of officially charging you with anything else, the government is stipulating the longer end of the sentence curve and you’ll probably have to serve most of that time. They might offer you parole for good behavior after twelve to fifteen months.”

The major stares out the barred window for a moment before looking back at Harm and nodding her acceptance of the government’s offer. “Thank you, Sir,” she says.

“For what, Major?”

“For being nice to me,” she says. “I really appreciate it.” Harm offers her a smile and a nod.

JAG

1645 Zulu (1145 EDT)  
Morgue  
Boyington Med Center

“Commander Blaney, can you tell me the cause of death?” Mac asks the chief medical examiner.

“Well, Colonel, she died of carbon monoxide poisoning,” the pathologist says, flipping through his file. “She was found in her car inside the garage. The engine was still running.”

“Were there any signs of the victim being bound?” Mac questions.

“What do you mean?” asks the commander.

“I mean, were there any marks on her wrists or ankles indicating that she had been tied up?” Mac explains impatiently.

“No, Colonel. This appears to be a case of suicide,” he says.

Mac shakes her head. “I don’t think so, Commander,” she says. “I’ll be back.”

“Her body is scheduled to be released to her family tomorrow,” the commander tells her. “You better come back before 1300.”

“I don’t think so, Commander,” she gets in his face. “Her remains are now part of a murder investigation. You hold that body until I say so. You got that?”

“Sheesh, Colonel, calm down,” the doctor remarks. “I’ll notify the family. When do I tell them they can pick her up?”

“I don’t know yet, Commander, I’ll let you know,” Mac says and leaves the morgue.

JAG

1730 Zulu (1230 EDT)  
Marine Brig  
Quantico Marine Corps Base

“I’m Colonel MacKenzie with the JAG Corps,” Mac tells the sergeant on duty at the main desk. “I’d like to speak to whomever recovered the body of Lance Corporal MacReynolds.”

“That would be Corporal Pemberton,” says Sergeant Kenseth. “He’s not on duty today, Ma’am.” Mac glares at the sergeant. “But I could call him, Ma’am, and ask him to come down.”

“You do that, Sergeant,” she says sternly and begins pacing the small foyer. Mac listens as the sergeant makes the call, explaining to the corporal why he was needed and who was expecting his presence, ASAP.

“Ma’am, the corporal will be here in ten minutes,” Sergeant Kenseth reports.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” she replies, taking a seat in one of the vinyl coated chairs. Mac glanced up at the clock and watched the slowly moving second go around and around, transporting her back in time…

JAG

1992

0535 Zulu (1435 Local)  
US Naval Hospital Okinawa  
Okinawa, Japan

“Lieutenant MacKenzie, will you please follow me?” the naval nurse called into the small waiting room. She led Mac to an even smaller office. “If you’ll have a seat, Captain Stockton will be with you shortly.”

Mac took the proffered seat and crossed her legs. She looked about the doctor’s office at the different posters depicting the development of an unborn baby, the importance of pre-natal vitamins, and one from Aruba. Mac wiped the moisture from her eyelids.

“There are some tissues behind you,” Captain Stockton said kindly as she entered her office. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant, I guess you’ve figured out that you are pregnant…about two and a half months along.”

Mac nodded as the tears began to stream in earnest down her cheeks. “How did this happen, Captain?” she asked. “I’ve been on the pill for seven years.”

“The only guarantee against pregnancy is abstinence, Lieutenant. Even the pill is not fool proof,” replied the doctor. “I’m going to give you a prescription for pre-natal vitamins and I want you to make an appointment for a check-up in a month, okay?”

Mac just nodded.

~~

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” asked Captain John Farrow, Mac’s commanding officer and secret lover. He sat on the floor beside where she lay on his couch. “You’ve been quiet all evening.”

Mac had gone to John’s place, just as she did every Friday. He lived off base, while she lived on base.

“John, we have a little problem,” she began, tears threatening once again. “I’m not sure how to tell you…”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re pregnant?” he asked.

She sat up quickly and looked at him with surprised eyes, “How did you know that? I only found out today.”

“It’s written all over you, Sarah,” he remarked with a smile. “You’re a little rounder in several areas and, believe it or not, your appetite has increased.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Would you have believed me?”

“I doubt it,” she replied. “Well, now what? And before you propose, I am not getting married for the sake of the child.”

“That’s your choice, but you know what that means, don’t you?”

“Oh, god…” the tears started falling. “Separation?”

John nodded. “I’m sorry, Sarah, I’m in the unenviable position of having to administratively discharge you from the Marine Corps,” he says regretfully. “I’ve already compromised my command by risking this relationship with you, but I can hide it. You won’t be able to hide your pregnancy past another month, two at the most. I’m not going to have a choice.” John got up the couch and gathered her into his arms as she sobbed. “I’m sorry, Sarah, I wish it were different,” he cooed in her ear. “You understand, don’t you?”

JAG

Present day

Sergeant Kenseth gets up to speak with Mac, but is stopped in his tracks by the sight of her staring at the clock with tears running her face. He silently retreats and leaves her to her thoughts.

JAG

1992

(one month later)

0215 Zulu (1115 Local)  
Captain Farrow’s office  
Camp Butler, Okinawa, Japan

“Are you all right, Ma’am?” asked a young private first class, rushing over to Mac’s side. Mac was doubled over, clutching her abdomen. The private helped Mac slip to the floor and propped her up against the desk.

“Get the captain,” Mac whispered. “Hurry!”

Within thirty seconds, John was tearing through the office. “Sarah, what’s wrong?” he asked, noticing her hands pressed against her belly. ”Private, clear out this office, ASAP and call the hospital to send an ambulance!” The private did as she was bid and within another thirty seconds, the office was empty, except for Mac and John. He sat next to her on the floor and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “It’s the baby, isn’t it?” She nodded. “It’s going to be okay,” he reassured her.

This time, she shook her head. “It’s too late,” she whispered and pointed down to the carpet underneath her. She sat in a puddle of blood. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” she chanted over and over as the tears continued to fall.

Present day

Harm walks into the brig foyer from a door opposite of where Mac sits staring at the clock. He starts when he notices her. She has her arms wrapped around herself and she is rocking back and forth, whispering she is sorry as the tears roll down her face. He walks over to her slowly and kneels down beside her. “Mac…Mac…are you okay?” he gently places his hand on her knee.

“I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry for what, Mac?” Harm asks.

“I’m sorry…I lost our baby…”

Harm is stunned as he digests what she just said. Knowing it’s not really “their” baby, he wonders just whose baby it was.

“Sergeant,” Harm walks over to the desk. “Can you please call VOQ and arrange quarters for Colonel Sarah MacKenzie with the JAG Corps?”

“Yes, Sir. Is there anything else I can do?” Sergeant Kenseth asks.

“How long has she been like that?” Harm asks.

“She’s only been here about fifteen minutes. She wanted to talk with Corporal Pemberton and she was waiting until he arrived,” Kenseth tells Harm. “She sat down to wait and the next thing I know she’s spaced out. I was going to offer her some water or something, but I didn’t want to disturb her. My brother use to sleep walk and the doctor told us it was always chancy to wake someone up, so that’s why I didn’t want to scare her.”

“Thank you, sergeant,” Harm says and walks back over to Mac. “Hey, Mac, are you okay?” he asks softly, kneeling down again. “Mac, I need you to wake up.”

“I’m sorry…” she says once more.

“Mac,” he says a little more firmly and shakes her knee back and forth.

She stops rocking and looks down at Harm’s hand on her leg. She blinks a few times and looks at him. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the brig at Quantico, remember?” Harm sits beside her. “Do you remember anything?”

She nods slowly, her dream coming back to her, and realizing her face is wet, wipes angrily at her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m crying. I need to speak with Corporal Pemberton. Is he here, yet?”

Harm shakes his head, “Mac, why we don’t we put the questioning on hold until tomorrow? I had the sergeant arrange quarters at the VOQ.”

“I’m fine, Harm,” she says, a bit agitated. She stands and smoothes her skirt. “I’m fine. I can talk to the corporal first. I can do my job.”

“Ma’am, I’m Corporal Pemberton. Are you looking for me?” asks the stocky soldier.

“Yes, I am, Corporal,” Mac says crisply, trying to shake off her melancholia. “I have a couple questions about when you found Lance Corporal MacReynolds. Is there someplace we can talk?”

“Yes, Ma’am, there’s an interview room just down the hall,” he says, walking toward the corridor.

“You can go, Harm,” she says.

“Uh, uh, not a chance,” he replies shaking his head and pointing at her. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

~

“What led you to the discovery of the body, Corporal?” Mac asks after she’s taken a seat opposite the corporal at the tiny table.

“A co-worker had gone by her house to check on her as she didn’t show up for duty that morning,” he explains. “A Corporal Smith called here to say that he heard a car running in the garage, but that when he called out, there was no answer.” Mac jots down shorthand notes as the corporal continues, “Private First Class Martin and I responded to the call. When we arrived, we broke the glass on the front door and let ourselves in. We headed straight for the garage and found the lance corporal in the back seat.”

“And she wasn’t tied up or bound in any way?” Mac asks.

“No, Ma’am,” he replies. “It was kind of strange though, she was still in her pajamas.”

“And at what time did you find the body?” she queries.

“It was about 1015, Ma’am,” the corporal answers.

“Could you tell she was pregnant?”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am, there was no mistaking that.”

“How long do you think she had been out there, Corporal?” Mac asks.

“Several hours at least, she was pretty stiff,” Corporal Kenseth remarks.

“Did you look for a note?” Mac asks.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” the corporal shakes his head, not understanding.

“A suicide note,” she explains. “Generally, people who commit suicide leave a note.”

“I didn’t see one, Colonel,” the corporal says. “But I only took a cursory glance around her quarters to determine that there was no foul play. Nothing was disturbed, so I assumed she took her own life and I called the morgue.”

“Thank you, Corporal,” Mac finishes her notes. “I don’t believe she killed herself. Will you please arrange to have her quarters cordoned off and designated as a crime scene?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answers.

“That’ll be all,” she says and stands, preceding him out the door.

~

“Are you still here?” Mac asks Harm as she emerges from the hallway. “I thought I told you that you could leave.”

“Yeah, well, since when do I ever listen to you?” Harm returns teasingly.

“Harm, I’m fine, you don’t have to baby-sit me,” she argues.

“Can we discuss this someplace else?” he asks, under his breath, indicating the two marines standing at the desk with a nod of his head.

“Fine,” Mac says and turns on her heel and walks out the door. She gets into the Navy car and waits for Harm to get in.

“Are you hungry?” Harm asks, checking his watch. “We could get something to eat before I drop you off at the VOQ.”

“No, I’m not hungry,” she replies stiffly. “I need to go to Lance Corporal MacReynold’s quarters and look around.”

“Can’t that wait?”

“No, it can’t. I’m telling you, Harm, she was murdered,” Mac says. “I also need to talk with her supervisor and her co-workers. I wonder who the father was.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“Don’t you have your own case to work on?” she asks. “I told you, I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

“My case is pretty much wrapped up. Major Johnson accepted the government’s offer without any changes,” Harm explains. “By the time I got back to JAG, the workday would be over. I may as well stay and help you, right? Two heads are better than one and four eyes are better than two.” He looks over at her. “Mac…seriously…something major happened to you back in the brig. I’m not asking to know what is was, but just let me stick close for a while, okay? You really worried me. I’ll let you call the shots.”

“All right, fine,” she gives in, secretly relieved to have him close by. “The lance corporal lived in housing…35 John Glenn Drive.”

~

Mac steps over the broken glass still littering the tile in the small entrance hall.

Harm follows her in, “I’ll look around down here if you want to go upstairs.”

Mac nods and heads up the stairs.

Mac catches her breath at the sight of partially put together crib in the smaller of the two bedrooms. She steps in and looks around at the stacked boxes, some with baby clothes hanging out of them. On the dresser is a baby book. Mac flips it open and reads: Kelsey Danielle MacReynolds. Looking around again she spots a rocking chair in the corner with a beautiful baby blanket in progress draped across the arm. “This woman did not kill herself,” Mac whispers to herself.

In the lance corporal’s room, Mac begins opening drawers looking for letters or a diary…anything that might give her a clue as to who wanted this woman dead. Marine Corps regulations sure had changed in the last nine years. Now, instead of discharging them, the Corps even provided housing to unmarried pregnant soldiers.

Mac uncovered some letters in one of the bed table drawers. She pulls them out and reads the first one: Dear Makenna, I am so excited about becoming an aunt for the first time. I hope you find the baby clothes useful. If you ever need anything, you know I’m just a phone call away. Love, Sophie. Mac made a mental note to get Sophie’s phone number.

After determining that all the other letters were also from Sophie, Mac tucks them back in the drawer. She walks around to the other bed table and opens the drawer. “Now, we’re getting somewhere…I hope,” she says to herself as she pulls out a worn Bible and what looks like a diary. She flips it open to the first page. The last entry is dated only two weeks ago. That means there are more diaries somewhere.

Mac opens the closet door. On one side of the small walk-in are the lance corporal’s clothes. Uniforms are lined up across the top bar; her civilian clothes hang across the bottom. Her shoes are lined up along the shelf. Across from her clothes are storage containers, all meticulously marked with their contents.

After peeking into a couple of ambiguously labeled containers, Mac finds what she is looking for. “Bingo,” she says and pulls the container from its stack. She drags it to the bedroom door and calls for Harm. She marks his progress up the stairs by the sound his shoes make on the wooden stairs.

“What do you need, Mac?” he asks peeking his head into the room.

“Can you carry this down to the car for me?” she points at the box.

“What’s in there?” he asks, lifting it easily.

“Old letters and diaries,” Mac replies. “I am hoping that there will be some clues in there somewhere as to the baby’s father and to who would have wanted Makenna MacReynolds dead.” She follows him down the stairs and out to the car. “I’m going to ask the neighbor a few questions. I’ll just be a few more minutes, okay?” Harm nods, climbing into the driver’s seat.

~

Mac knocks on the neighbor’s door. She hears a young child call for its momma.

“Hello?” asks a pretty redheaded woman. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Colonel MacKenzie. I’m investigating the death of your neighbor, Lance Corporal MacReynolds,” Mac explains. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

“Sure, although I don’t think I can tell you much,” the woman says. “By the way, my name’s Allison Busch.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Busch,” Mac smiles. “Did Lance Corporal MacReynolds have any men friends that came around?”

“Well, not that I noticed,” she answers. “Makenna had only been living here about a month and half or so. Oh, wait…I did see this guy once. Overheard them arguing, too. Housing doesn’t have the thickest walls, you know. I never saw him again, though.”

“Is there anything else you can remember?” Mac asks.

“No, not off the top of my head,” she shakes her head.

Mac takes a business card out of her jacket pocket, “If you remember anything, would you please give me a call?” The woman nods and closes the door as Mac walks back to the car.

“Anything?” Harm asks as she gets in. She shakes her head as he starts the engine and heads back toward the main part of the base and the VOQ.

JAG

2017 Zulu (1517 EDT)  
Mac’s room in the VOQ  
Quantico Marine Corps Base, Virginia

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Harm asks, cover in hand.

“I’ll be fine, Harm,” Mac moves him toward the door. “I’m going to have a hot bath and then cuddle up in the bed and read through the lance corporal’s diaries to see if I can find any clues. Tell the admiral I’ll call sometime tomorrow morning.”

“All right…I’ll see you later,” he says, opening the door and finally taking his leave.

~

Mac opens the plastic storage container and pulls out a stack of the diaries. After grabbing a small pad of Post It Notes and a pen, she opens each book and checks the date of the first entry, then numbers the books so that she can read them in order. Mac decides to start reading two months prior to the lance corporal’s pregnancy. Hopefully, there will be some entries regarding the baby’s father. Her gut is telling her that he is the prime suspect.

Propping one pillow up against the wall, Mac climbs into the bed to begin her research. Deciding that one pillow is not enough to cushion the hardness of the headboard, she reaches over to grab the other pillow. While doing so, Mac has a flashback of the lance corporal’s room.

**The bed clothes were pretty messy…as if there had been a struggle; one of the pillows was at the end of the bed…as if tossed aside…**

Now, given the immaculate state of the lance corporal’s closet, Mac could only assume that, if she had, indeed, committed suicide, the lance corporal would have made her bed and gotten dressed first. She knew it was circumstantial evidence…however, Mac is suddenly struck with the thought that Makenna MacReynolds had been suffocated before she was placed in her running vehicle. Why hadn’t the autopsy revealed this? Since surely, if that had been that case, there would be little or no carbon monoxide in her blood.

Mac makes a mental note that the first order of business tomorrow is to go back to the morgue and talk to that pathologist, Commander Blaney. She glances up at the ceiling as thunder rumbles across the sky.

She settles her pillows and begins reading. If her theory is correct, she’d need a name and a motive to give to the Virginia authorities.

JAG

1245 Zulu (0745 EDT)  
Morgue  
Boyington Med Center

Mac knocks firmly on Commander Blaney’s office door and enters when she hears him call out for her to do so.

“Good morning, Commander,” says Mac with all the kick-ass-marine, don’t mess with me attitude she can muster.

Commander Blaney reacts accordingly. “G-good morning, C-colonel,” he stammers. “What can I do for you so early in the morning?”

“How much carbon monoxide did you find in Lance Corporal MacReynold’s blood?” she asks.

“What?” he asks.

“How much carbon monoxide did you find in the victim’s blood?” she asks again.

“W-well, I don’t know, Colonel, there was no toxicology report because I didn’t perform an autopsy,” the commander says. “There was no evidence to suggest she died from anything other than that, so there was no point.”

“I believe that Lance Corporal MacReynolds was suffocated prior to her being placed inside her vehicle,” Mac informs the commander. “I need you to perform an autopsy and I need you to do it now. Is there going to be a problem? ‘Cause if there is, I can contact my CO, Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden—the Judge Advocate General.”

“No…no problem, Colonel,” Commander Blaney shakes his head. “I’ll begin the procedure within thirty minutes and will be finished in approximately four hours.”

“All right,” Mac nods and hands him her business card. “Please call me on my cell phone with your findings.”

Mac heads back to her room in the VOQ to call the admiral and finish reading the lance corporal’s diaries before returning them to her quarters. As she walks back to the VOQ, she experiences a cold chill. Glancing quickly around and rubbing her arms, she doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

~

“Yes, Sir,” Mac responds. “The pathologist is performing the autopsy now. I believe she was suffocated before being placed in her car. I’ve been reading her diaries to find out the name of her baby’s father. I think he was the one who killed her.”

“Good work, Colonel,” the admiral says. “When can I expect you back?”

“The autopsy should be finished around 1230,” she tells him. “It’ll probably be another hour and a half till I’m on the road; by the time I talk with the pathologist and notify the Virginia authorities. That should get me back to DC by 1600. Do you want me to come in to the office?”

“That won’t be necessary,” he says. “Go on home and get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Mac says and hangs up.

JAG

1909 Zulu (1409 EDT)  
I-95 north bound  
Virginia

Mac glances up large ominous clouds sailing across the darkening sky. She sighs. Just what she needs after the emotional upheaval she’d gone through the past couple of days…a huge storm was moving in. Hopefully, she’d beat the worst of it home and be warm and snug in her own bed before it got too bad.

She looks in the rearview mirror of her rented car and notices a grey sedan about three car lengths behind her. Turning on the radio for company, Mac continues to monitor the weather. The clouds keep getting darker although the rain has not yet begun to fall.

~

As she prepares to merge from I-395 onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway, Mac glances in her mirrors and again notices the gray car. She tries speeding up and changing lanes several times, but the car continues to follow her. Mac grabs her cell phone to call the police, but it’s dead.

“Damn,” she says out loud. “Okay, Mac think. What are your options? Drive to the office? No, you’ve already gone past the exit,” she dismisses that option due to the weather. “Go to Mic’s? No, he’s still out of town. Go to Harm’s? No, he’s probably still at work. Of course, if I go home, I can get my gun.” She looks for the car once again, but not seeing it, she breathes a sigh of relief, “I guess I’m just over-reacting too much.”

~

The rain begins to fall, finally, as she exits the freeway and makes her way into her neighborhood. Pulling up in front of her apartment, Mac kills the engine and grabs her stuff. Unable to shake off her uneasiness, she hurries inside. A sharp crack of lightning follows a long loud rumble of thunder. The lights in the hallway flicker, intensifying her agitation.

Mac finally reaches her door and takes a deep breath to steady her hand as she slides the key in the lock. Once inside, she shuts the door quickly and locks the dead bolt. She heads straight for her room, and without turning on any lights, changes out of her uniform into something more comfortable, and grabs her 9-millimeter, slipping it into the waistband of her jeans. Lightning flashes several times, illuminating the room.

She tiptoes to the window and peers out, watching as a car comes to a stop across the street. When no one gets out, Mac heads for the phone.

“Harm—“ Mac whispers loudly into the phone.

“Mac, what’s wrong?” Harm asks worriedly.

“Can you come over?” she asks. “I think there’s someone watching my apartment.”

“Do you have your weapon?” he asks.

“Of course, I do,” she says impatiently. “I’m a ma—“

“Marine...I know. Just checking,” Harm says. “I’ll be there as fast as I can. Sit tight.”

*

As the storm grows steadily worse, Mac grows steadily more nervous. As she waits for Harm and listens to the thunder boom and the rain fall, Mac imagines that she hears all sorts of unnatural noises. She jumps as she hears her doorknob rattle and grabs her pistol from her waistband.

“Mac!” Harm calls through the door. “It’s me…let me in.”

“Thank god,” Mac says, getting up and going to the door. “What took you so long?”

“Don’t turn on the light, yet,” Harm says by way of a greeting. “I drove down the street first. There’s a grey car parked across the street.”

“There was a grey car following me from Quantico,” she tells him. “It got off three exits before mine, so I figured I was being paranoid.”

“Whoever it is knows where you live, Mac,” Harm deduces. “I parked around back. I’m going to lay low. You turn on the lights and go on about your business. See if we can’t lure this creep.”

Harm finds a corner and has a seat as Mac’s phone begins to ring.

She flips on the table lamp and answers the phone, “Hello?”

“Hello, Sarah,” says a distorted voice. “I’ve missed you.”

“Who is this?” Mac yells, knowing, even as she asks, to whom the voice belongs. “You bastard!” She slams the receiver down.

“Who was it?” Harm asks as his cell phone begins ringing. He yanks it open, “Rabb!”

“Commander—where the hell are you?” the admiral demands. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I’m at Colonel MacKenzie’s apartment, Sir,” Harm tells him.

“Thank God!” the relief evident in the admiral’s voice. “Stay with her.”

“What’s up, Sir?” Harm asks.

“I just got a call from the DC police…Coster escaped from USP Lewisburg sometime yesterday,” the admiral reveals. “The police are sending a couple of cars. Stay with her and shoot to kill if it comes to that.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Harm slaps the phone shut. “Damn.”

“Coster,” they say together.

“Coster’s out, Mac,” Harm didn’t know of any other way to tell her, other than flat out.

“Oh, my god, Harm,” Mac whispers in fear, grabbing his arm in a death grip.

“I’m sorry, Mac. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that,” he attempts to undo her claws from his arm. “Can you let go here?”

“Sorry…sorry…what am I going to do, Harm?” she asks.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Harm asks. She nods. “Have I ever let you down?” This time she shakes her head. “Okay, then…the police are on their way. Until then, you go about your business as if nothing is wrong. I’m here to cover your six.”

“Right…okay,” she takes a deep breath. “I’m bait again, right?” Harm nods. “How about dinner? I’ll make something to eat.” She heads for the kitchen and decides on a frozen dinner. After taking it out of the box and removing the plastic film cover, Mac places it in the microwave.

Mac jumps as several bolts of lightning flash across the black sky, accompanied by their respective sharp cracks as the electricity splits the air, and followed by thunder as loud as a sonic boom. Not five seconds later, the power goes out. The apartment is left in pitch-blackness.

“Harm,” she calls out, the fear obvious.

“I’m right where you left me,” he responds. “Just come to me. You know your apartment better than I do.”

As she heads out of the kitchen, the phone rings. Mac grabs the receiver off the wall, “Hello?”

“Colonel MacKenzie, this is Officer Franks from the DC police,” says the man on the other end. “That last lightning strike knocked down two trees and several power lines around your area. Our squad cars will be delayed. Do you have a weapon?”

“Yes, Officer. How long until someone will be here?” she asks.

“I’m not sure, Colonel, the weather is wreaking havoc all over town,” he says as another loud rumble of thunder echoes across the sky. “Unfortunately for you, you are no longer top priority, but we’ll get there as soon as we can. Is there someone else you can call?”

“Thanks, Officer, I’ve already got my own back-up,” she hangs up on him. “The police are caught up with weather problems, Harm. It’ll be awhile.” Mac begins making her way across the room to Harm again.

“Ow,” Harm exclaims as Mac kicks his leg. “Watch it, Marine. You wearing steel toed boots today?”

“I’m sorry, Harm,” she says, sitting down in the dark beside him. “It’s so dark, I can’t even see my fingers in front of my face.” The room lights up as a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky. “I hate lightning, Harm.”

“I know…come here,” he invites, searching for her in the darkness and pulling her close. “Mac, will you tell me about your baby?”

“What baby?” she asks, trying to sound as if she doesn’t know what Harm means.

“Mac,” Harm says gently. “In the brig, when you were out of it, you kept saying you were sorry over and over…when I asked why you were sorry, you said for losing our baby. Now, I know we’ve never… um…you know…so I know, it wasn’t ours. Will you tell me about it?”

“It was awful, Harm,” he can hear the tears in her voice. “This thing with the lance corporal…I just knew she didn’t commit suicide…it brought it all back.”

“Was it your husband’s baby?” Harm asks.

“No,” she says. “It was John Farrow’s. I had been on the pill, Harm. I thought I was safe. And you know, back then, they discharged single women who got pregnant. I was devastated.” Harm gives her a tender squeeze. “It’s not that I didn’t want the baby, I just hated having to be discharged because of it. We kept it a secret as long as we could.” She sniffs lightly and wipes a few tears from her cheeks.

“I’m surprised he didn’t ask you to marry him,” Harm says. “You could have circumvented regs.”

“He would have had I not dismissed the notion of marrying for the baby’s sake,” she replies. “But about a month later, I miscarried in the office. We were both angry and sad. It was the beginning of the end for us. I think he thought that I did it on purpose.”

“I’m sorry, Mac,” Harm offers her another sideways hug.

“Well, as much as it hurts sometimes. It was probably for the best,” Mac says. “If I’d had that baby and been discharged, I’d never have met you.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s something to be thankful for, huh?” Harm comments with a chuckle. “Honestly, Mac, I’m sorry about the baby and about Colonel Farrow.”

“Yeah, me, too,” she sighs. “I’ve got to go to the little marine’s room.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.

“I think I can handle it,” she says wryly.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies.

“I know and I’ll be fine,” she pats his knee as she uses it to boost herself upright. “Be right back.”

A few minutes later, Harm hears the tell tale sign that Mac has concluded her business. A loud crash of thunder precedes a flash of lightning and as Harm wonders what is taking her so long, he hears…

“AAAHHHH—“

Harm jumps up and tears through Mac’s apartment trying to not bump into or knock over anything important. “Mac!” he calls. “OOF!” he flips over the armchair and scrambles to his feet.

“Hold it, Commander,” a familiar voice directs Harm to freeze.

“Where’s Mac?” Harm demands into the darkness.

“She’s with the man who loves her, Commander,” Coster says.

The lights come back on and Harm sees Coster standing in the doorway to Mac’s bedroom with her in a chokehold and her pistol held to her temple. He gasps at the wild fear in Mac’s eyes as she pleads with them for him to help her. A swatch of duct tape keeps her mute.

“How’d you get in here, anyway?” Harm asks.

“Oh, I’ve been here for hours,” Coster says with an evil grin. “Nice navel ring, Sarah.”

Harm raises his eyebrows at Mac. “Let her go, Coster,” he orders and tries to surreptitiously get his gun from his waistband.

“Now, why should I do that, Rabb?” he asks. “Oh…and don’t bother with your weapon—if I see it, she’s dead.”

Harm hold up his hands,” Okay…okay…the cops are on their way, you know.”

“I don’t think so, Commander,” says Coster. “I know all about the weather and the downed power lines. It’ll be awhile still.”

“What’ll it take for you to release her?” Harm asks.

“There’s nothing I want besides Sarah,” Coster answers waggling his eyebrows.

“I’m not letting her leave here with you, Coster,” Harm tells him.

“Then I’ll have to kill you first, Rabb,” he sneers. “Not that I have any problem with that.”

“Well, in order to kill her you’ll have to take the gun away from her head and as soon as you do that, I shoot you,” Harm replies. “Not that I have any problem with that.”

“Very funny, Rabb. You’d better watch it or I just might have to shoot her anyway,” Coster says, tightening his hold on her neck. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Sarah…cheating on me while I’ve been away.”

Thunder rumbles again and the sound of a knock on the door distracts Coster. As he looks at the door, Harm grabs his gun and shoots Coster in the gut. Coster slumps to the floor, Mac runs for Harm, Harm shoots Coster in the chest, and the door gets kicked in.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Mic demands as he sees Harm’s arm wrapped around a sobbing Mac.

“Thank God,” Harm gasps. “I never thought I’d be this happy to see you.” He releases Mac. “Are you okay?”

She nods at Harm and grabs hold of the duct tape on her mouth and pulls quickly, “OW!”

“Sarah, what’s going on here?” Mic asks, going over to her. “And who the hell is that?” He indicates Coster’s body.

Harm walks over to the body and checks for a pulse, “He’s dead, Mac. He’ll never bother you again.”

“Again?” asks Mic. “And I suppose you came to her rescue the last time, too, huh?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Harm replies. “But that was way before she even knew you.”

“Why didn’t you call me, Sarah?” Mic asks. “Or the police?”

“You were out of town, Mic,” Mac reminds him. “And I did call the police, but they were sidetracked by weather conditions.”

“And did you call them before or after you called Rabb?” Mic demands angrily.

Harm slips out the door with a slight nod to Mac.

“Harm, wait!” Mac calls, going after him.

He shakes his head. “Later, Mac. Deal with Mic now,” he tells her softly. “We’ll talk later, okay?” He caresses her cheek for a fraction of a second and pulls the door shut.

Mac blinks back the tears before turning back to Mic.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mic demands again, more incensed by Harm’s presence than the dead body.

“Coster stalked me once before, three years ago,” Mac explains. “He escaped from prison yesterday and has been waiting for me. Somebody followed me from Quantico and parked across the street. I don’t think it was him,” she indicates Coster. “He was already in here, evidently, when I got home.”

“Bloody hell!” Mic exclaims. “You could have been killed, Sarah.”

“No kidding,” she responds sarcastically. “I need to call the police.”

JAG

2323 Zulu (1823 EDT)  
Mac’s Apartment  
Georgetown

“Who shot the deceased?” asks Detective Brown.

“Commander Harmon Rabb,” Mic offers immediately.

“He’s my partner at JAG,” Mac adds.

“We’ll need to speak with Commander Rabb,” says the detective. “Is there a number where he can be reached?”

Mac gives the detective Harm’s phone number as the coroner zips up the body bag and removes the body from her apartment.

“Thank you, Detective,” Mac offers as she escorts him out the door.

~

“Thank God you’re all right, Sarah,” Mic envelops her in a hug.

“Mic…all I really want is a hot shower and a warm bed,” Mac shrugs out of his arms.

“And if Harm were here?” Mic asks angrily.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

“I think we need to talk, Sarah,” he rakes his hand through his hair. “About us.”

“What about us?” she asks.

“I don’t know, Sarah…every time something happens, you call Harm,” he says.

“It’s habit, Mic,” she sighs. “For the last four years I’ve always called Harm when I need help.”

“Well, for the last ten months, we’ve been seriously involved, engaged for the last five,” Mic remarks. “So what do you think it says to me when you keep calling on him instead of me every time you need help.”

“I don’t know, Mic, what does it say to you?” she asks, not really wanting to have this conversation right now.

“It says that he’s more important to you than me,” Mic says. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

“Like crap,” she says. Obviously, they’re going to have the conversation anyway. “Look, Mic…I’m sorry, okay? When I get stressed out old habits die hard.”

“No, it’s not okay. I think we need to seriously rethink our relationship, Sarah,” he says.

“What are you saying?” she asks, holding her hand to her head. “I don’t really need this right now. I just had an awful case to figure out and then I came home to a crazed stalker. Can we talk later?”

“No we can’t,” Mic says.

“Fine. I’ve never lied to you,” Mac begins. “There has never been anything physical between Harm and I. There is something…I don’t know what it is…I can’t define it. We’re friends, we’re partners.” Mic is speechless. He never thought he’d get an admission about her and Harm out of her. “When he was interested, I wasn’t. When I was ready, he backed away,” she continues. “When you entered the picture, things between Harm and I changed dramatically…and not for the better…until recently.” She takes a deep breath. “And while I never meant to hurt you, I see that I’ve done that. What do you want to do now?”

“Sarah, I…” Mic isn’t sure what to say. He loves her; wants to marry her, but can plainly see that he will probably never take Harm’s place. “I think that for now we should rethink our plans for marriage.”

Mac nods. She is relieved. The more plans they made, the more nervous and confused she got. The only time she seemed to feel comfortable and in control was when she was near Harm. That certainly was not as it should be. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“So am I, luv,” he replies. Mic walks over and places a soft kiss on her cheek. “Be happy, Sarah…even if it’s with Harm.”

As he closes the door, a loud roar of thunder precedes a bright flash of lightning. Mac hears the sharp retort as it cuts through the air and a moment later the lights go out again.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to tag for, so if you come across something, please let me know. This was written way before tags were the thing and I don't have any.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read this in ages, so if there's something I should tag for, please contact me. Thanks.


End file.
